He had been drawing cuts with Maude to see which would have the first choice, and the lot came to him.
“Miss Overton,” he called again, and Edna came forward, noticing, as she did so, the glances of surprise and dissatisfaction exchanged between the city girls, who, though very civil to her, did not attempt to conceal that they knew her only as a hired companion, whose rightful place was at Mrs. Churchill’s side, rather than in the ranks with themselves as Roy Leighton’s first choice.
Maude wanted to choose Jack first, but modesty forbade, and then, too, he sometimes made awful hits, and had a way of pursuing a ball, no matter where it was or into what enemy’s quarter it took him. Jack was out of the question, and so she chose Uncle Burton, and Roy took Jack himself. Two of the New York girls came next, and the New York beau, and then the number was complete, and Miss Agatha Shawe and Beatrice Bradley retired in dignified silence, and taking seats by Mrs. Churchill, prepared to criticise the game. It was Roy’s first play, and he drove his ball through the third wicket and in the vicinity of the fourth, while Maude, who usually struck so surely, started badly, and only made her second arch.
Miss Agatha, who was reporting to Mrs. Churchill, and whose sympathies were on Maude’s side, said a little sarcastically:
“She is in no danger from her opponent, I fancy; Miss Overton plays next.”
Edna heard the remark, and while it sent the blood to her face, it seemed to lend steadiness to her hand and coolness to her judgment, and her first stroke was through both of the wickets, while a shout went up from Roy and Jack, and was echoed by Maude, who, knowing that the city ladies looked upon Edna and herself as people belonging to the working class, rejoiced at her friend’s success even though it should tell against her side. And it did tell sadly, for remembering Roy’s teaching in the morning, Edna used her opponent’s ball so skilfully as to reach the stake before stopping at all. But there she missed her stroke, and came back to her place by Roy, who commended her highly, while Miss Agatha began to change her tactics, and “guessed Miss Overton had played before.”
Poor Mr. Burton was awkwardness itself. With the dread of talking to Roy before him, he hardly saw his ball, and made a “booby” of himself at once, and said to Maude, as he knocked his unlucky ball back to its place: “I told you so. I can’t play any more than an elephant.”
But he was good at long shots, as Maude had said, and he did some long shooting before he was through, for the game was a hotly-contested one. Maude recovered her skill with her second round, while Edna lost a little by being so constantly pursued by the city girl, who played the best, and who shared Miss Agatha’s contempt for the plebeian. But Roy beat; and then they chose again, and Maude took Edna first, and Edna’s side was always the winning one, until Miss Agatha suggested that “Miss Overton should play on both sides, and see what the result would be.”
But Roy said Miss Overton was too tired to do that; besides, it was nearly time for refreshments; the servants were arranging the tables now; and he suggested that, for a time, they should rest, and go wherever they pleased. That broke up the group, which divided up in twos and threes, Maude walking away with Jack, Edna returning to Mrs. Churchill’s side, and the city people making a little knot by themselves, under one of the tall shade-trees.
Mr. Burton was thus left alone; seeing which, Roy asked him to go and look at a fast horse which he had recently purchased, and which was accounted by connoisseurs of horse-flesh a very fine animal. And so it came about that, after the horse had been duly examined and admired, Roy found himself alone with Mr. Burton in a little rustic arbor, apart from all the rest of his guests, and where he could not well be seen, as the arbor was hidden from the greater part of the grounds by the evergreens which grew so thickly around it.